A Dance for Two
by R Quincy
Summary: Edward Elric, a student at Brun's Military Academy, finds himself irrevocably—and extremely reluctantly—drawn to his enchanting friend. Soon, despite Edward's attempted ignorance, the dark-haired  man has them both spinning in a dizzying dance of passion.


~A Dance for Two~

It seemed everyone was excited for the dance between St. Helen's All-Girl Academy and Richard Brun's Military Academy. And even Edward, who was not planning on going, could not help but be swept away by his classmates' enthusiasm. Winry, especially, appeared to eagerly anticipate the night of the masque. She had asked that Edward help her prepare for it, and Edward, despite how he hated to be considered feminine, had agreed. Winry was the only family he had left, and if this dance was important to her, he would help in any way he could.

Edward knocked on the door loudly.

'Come in, Ed.' He entered to find Winry wearing only her bra and panties. Unabashed, he walked over to the bed and sat down. He was not attracted to Winry, and had caught her wearing even less in the past. She turned to face him, her expression a mixture of frustration and despair.

'What?' Ed asked, concerned.

'I can't decide what to wear.' As outrageous as her problem sounded, Edward did not laugh. Instead, he stood and made his way over to her closet.

'Do you know what your date is wearing?' Winry pinked.

'I'm going with myself, actually.' Edward doubted it. She wouldn't be this excited if she were going alone. He rifled through her closet and found a soft, sky blue spaghetti-strap dress studded with fake diamonds at the neck and a tie in back. He held it out to her.

'This will compliment your eyes best.' She pulled it over her head, the folds settling comfortably over her body. The fabric clung to her curves and showed off her figure to its best advantage, but the neck was low and begged to be dressed as well. Edward moved to her dresser where a small box sat. It was black and simple, but he knew it held some of her most prized possessions. Opening it, he selected a silver chain adorned with a round tear drop. It was one he'd seen on Mrs. Rockbell several times in the past. He handed it to her and she fastened it around her neck. Edward scrutinized her form, his expression thoughtful.

'Curl your hair. Ringlets would be best, I think.' Edward paused to think. 'Have you got a blue headband?'

'Er...I think so.'

'Wear it.' He turned and rifled through her jewellery box again, eventually pulling out two dangling star-shaped earrings. They were a clear blue and would match the dress. He put them in her hand and pulled a pair of light brown, strapped heels from the floor of her closet, handing those to her as well. She pulled them on and he stood back to study her appearance.

'Do your hair.' He pointed toward the washroom. 'If you put on make-up, use natural colours. I'll find something for your wrist.' Winry walked through the door and Edward turned to her black box for the third time. Winry looked up when Edward entered the washroom holding a silver bracelet and two bangles. He placed them on the counter and hoisted himself up onto it so he was facing her as she twirled her hair around the iron.

'I always knew you were a girl.' He grinned. 'You'll shock people, if you're not careful. Most don't want to waste the effort it takes to see past the overalls, boots, and sweaty ponytail.'

'Thanks, Ed.' She muttered sarcastically.

'It's all right, though. I know you're still the same overprotective, nerdy, bitchy mechanic beneath all that.'

'A compliment, to be sure.' She glared at him. Their eyes met and they both burst out laughing. 'No, really; thanks.' Winry giggled. 'You're, surprisingly, much better at colour coordination than I am.' Edward grunted in response. He wasn't sure that was a compliment he wanted to receive.

'Who are you going with, Win?' He asked again, nosy to the last. Winry reddened.

'I told you: nobody.'

'If you expect me to believe that, you've got another thing coming. I've known you far too long to not know when you're lying.' Winry remained tight-lipped. Edward let out a tired breath. 'Fine; don't tell me. I'll learn soon enough without your help.' He watched as she finished curling her hair and started on make-up.

There was a knock at the door. Edward slip off the counter, holding out a hand to keep Winry from standing to answer it and made his way to the entryway. He opened it to find Riza standing there, dressed in a suit and tie, her short hair slicked back nicely. Edward couldn't help himself.

'Are you Winry's date?' He grinned up at her.

'For tonight, yes.' She answered offhandedly, seemingly comfortable with the question. Well, at least one of them could be cool about it. Winry had merely blushed. Edward opened the door to let her in.

'All right, give her a second. She's in the loo.' The door opened and Winry walked toward them, fiddling with the bracelet Ed had chosen.

'Edward, who was at the door?' She looked up to see Riza and blushed. Edward grinned. Her flushing had become an automatic response when she saw the other girl. There had been enough hints in the past that the two liked each other, and this only helped further confirm his assumption. He backed off a little, knowing they would want some privacy. They _were _trying to hide it, after all.

'You look amazing, Winry.' Riza smiled. It was true; she had never seen Winry so beautiful. The mechanic blushed at the compliment.

'Thanks. You don't look too bad yourself.'

'You've curled your hair.' Her hand tangled in the soft fuzz at her nape. The other moved to Winry's waist. 'I knew there was a woman beneath all that grime.' Riza moved in closer, as if she might kiss the besotted girl in her arms and Edward cleared his throat loudly. It wasn't that he was against their relationship; he just would rather it not be played out before him. Winry's blush deepened when she realized Edward was still in the room.

'Ah,' Riza pulled her hands away and Winry struggled to regain her composure. 'Actually, you'll have to thank Edward. Much of my transformation was thanks to him. Riza turned her gaze on Edward, sizing him up.

'Well, we'll have to return the favour then, won't we?' Edward fought not to squirm under the girl's careful scrutiny. He didn't like that gleam in her eyes. 'Right.' Riza nodded. 'Your turn, Ed.'

'What?' He exclaimed. He looked from Winry to Riza, then back to Winry. She was looking at him with that same menacing expression. Edward backed up. He knew both girls could become alarmingly violent when it came to getting their way.

'We're short one girl, Ed. She cancelled last-minute. With a little work, you'll fit the bill quite nicely.' Edward glared.

'Oh, no; I am _not_ going to the dance—especially not dressed as a girl!' Riza pulled out her gun and trained it on him.

'One night, Edward. One blind date and you're free.' Edward glared down the barrel of her gun. 'He'll make a great Spanish princess, don't you think, Win?' Winry smiled and the two girls pushed Ed toward the lavatory.

* * *

><p>A short time later, Edward sat on the toilet seat as Riza curled his hair. His golden waves had been dyed to ensure his identity was adequately concealed and now the dark ringlets curled gracefully around his face. He had originally opposed the outfit, but been forced to concede when Winry pulled out an alternative dress, covered in hideous yellow lace and bows. For a dress, this one wasn't bad. He'd been stripped down to his underwear and forced into black spandex slims. They were uncomfortably tight, but a necessity. The scarlet dress he wore had a Spanish look to it and was made of an elegant fabric caught between spandex and polyester. The dress ended at his knees and its sleeves were three-quarters in length to hide his metal limb. The flowing material whipped around him when he spun and the points of the skirt would make his presence more imposing. Winry had adorned his neck with a simple, black choker that set off his skin nicely.<p>

Winry leaned in to rearrange the necklace and Edward whispered to her:

'You are _so_ paying me back for this.' She grimaced at him.

'Do try to get into character, Ed. Your prince is waiting for you.'

"And I care, why?" She sighed.

'At least _pretend_ to enjoy yourself. Just imagine that you are a beautiful princess who has just fallen head-over-heels for your prince. _Try_ to maintain that character.' She sighed somewhat longingly, but Edward noticed her gaze was trained on Riza. He decided not to comment this time.

'I never wanted to act, Win. Besides, that sounds too much like one of your cheesy fairy tales.'

'Just because _you_ don't believe in love doesn't mean others don't.' She reached behind him again to slide a bobby pin into his curls.

'It's not the 'love' I don't believe in. It's the ridiculous notion that a mere emotion can conquer such great odds as the stories claim. No; 'happily ever after' is a falsehood promoted by adults so children will have something to believe in. It doesn't exist.' Edward muttered, shifting so Riza would have better access to his hair. He heard the metal plates grate against each other and was reminded of his own miserable past. There had been no 'happily ever after' for him. Winry's expression softened as she observed his cynicism. Edward was too young to be spouting such pessimistic truths. Life had not been kind to the blond. Pushing those thoughts aside, she held out a pair of black gloves.

'Put these on; they'll cover your automail. We don't want anyone discovering you. And while you're at it, see if you can change the shape a bit to look more feminine.' Edward, tired of trying to argue, clapped his hands firmly together and placed his flesh hand on his automail. The metal changed beneath his hands in a flash of lively, blue sparks, slimming it slightly, whilst not compromising the workings beneath it. Huffing in irritation, he yanked the gloves from Winry's grip and pulled them over his hands, rearranging the sleeves of his dress over the top of them. Winry nodded in approval. 'Take off your boots.' She ordered.

'I thought I got to keep them.' Edward growled in protest. She shook her head.

'We can't chance it. They're military issue, and will give you away. You're supposed to be exotic and foreign. Those boots will do nothing to help that image. You'll wear these instead.' She handed him a pair of black, knee-high boots. They had a slight heel. Ed glared at them. 'Oh, come on,' She threw them at him, her patience gone. Edward caught the boots against his chest. 'They'll make you taller. Even women aren't normally as short as you.' It was true, and Ed begrudged that. His eyes hardened in anger, but he pulled them on, standing to study himself in the mirror.

What he saw shocked him. The Spanish girl who met his eyes in the mirror was not him—could never be him. The girl's hair was black and curled, her golden eyes shining beneath darkened lashes. Her figure was graceful and feminine, thanks to the stuffed, padded bra, but muscled. The girls had done a good job on his make-up, the black eye-liner enhancing the startling gold of his eyes. In the end, even _he_ found it difficult to believe he was male. Edward glared at his reflection. This was a bit of knowledge he could have done without.

'You're beautiful, Edward.' Riza entered the bathroom with a small velvet box in one hand, and two masks in the other.

'Keep you comments to yourself.' Edward snapped, gripping the edge of the counter with his hands. In his anger, he failed to realize the pressure of his automail on the stone was too strong, and the marble broke off in his hand. 'Dammit.' He clapped, repairing the damage, and turned to face the two girls. Riza stood in front of him and rest a small silver tiara on his curls then stood back, giving him a final once-over.

'You'll pass for a girl.' She assured them. 'Use your falsetto tonight, and wear this.' She held up a red mask, handing the blue one to Winry. Eyes hard, Ed tied it beneath his curls. He studied his reflection one last time and, swallowing his pride, forced his voice into a high falsetto.

'If I didn't love you,' His voice deepened menacingly. 'I'd kill you both.' He left the threat hanging and stalked to the door, yanking it open. He looked behind him at the two girls, Winry now masked, as well.

'Well,' His voice was high again—almost pleasant, but he couldn't conceal the anger and embarrassment that shone in his eyes. 'Shall we?' Riza walked toward him with Winry on her arm and offered her other to Edward. He took it and the three began down the steps to the dance.

* * *

><p>Roy Mustang waited at the bottom of the stairs as a beautiful Spanish girl descended, her arm hooked beneath his sister's. She was breath-taking, her outfit matching her dark hair perfectly and she moved gracefully down the stairs, though he noticed she slightly favoured her left leg. The reached the floor and the girl's very presence breathed of some exotic energy. Her eyes captivated him, burning into his, and Roy was surprised to see anger there. The girl did not want to be here, that much was obvious. The pervert in him prayed that this sexy girl was his date, the other—more realistic—side of him hoped otherwise. If she was going to be in a bad mood the entire night, this was going to be one miserable date.<p>

'I've brought your date, Roy.' The Spanish girl suddenly wrenched her hand from the crook of Riza's arm, glaring at the girls.

'I am _not_ playing 'substitute date' for this bastard!' She exclaimed angrily, her voice surprisingly deep. Roy did a double-take. He knew that voice, and he was definitely used hearing it calling him 'bastard'.

'Edward?' The Spanish princess whirled on him and glowered, her eyes alight with fury. Now Roy understood the reason behind her anger.

'You know what?' Edward glared at the two girls. 'Forget what I said about loving you. I'll kill you both.' He turned sharply and started back up the stairs. 'I'm not doing it if it's _this_ arse's reputation I'm saving.' A hand reached out and yanked on his flesh arm, pulling him back toward the group. 'Wha–?' He stumbled and fell against Roy's chest and the boy's arms wrapped around him instinctively, catching him. Edward looked down and realized it was Roy who gripped his arm. 'Let go, dammit.'

'No.' Roy turned the teen around and studied him, taking in his hair, the dress, and his figure. His hands followed his eyes, exploring every place that would not be considered sexual harassment. Edward's body had a hard time believing it wasn't sexual and he worked to suppress a shiver as those strong hands explored his body. He found himself unable and unwilling to pull away. Out of all the men he could have been forced to date why did it have to be the one man he actually _was_ attracted to?

'Hands off, Mustang.' Edward wasn't uncomfortable—far from it. But Roy's hands should never feel as good as they did. Mustang smirked and drew back, somehow satisfied.

'Thanks, girls. This date will do fine.' That said, he pulled Edward toward a nearby couch.

* * *

><p>'Well, Edward,' Roy began once they had sat down. 'I didn't know you played that side of the fence.' Edward made a face and punched Roy's arm, none too gently.<p>

'You are such a bastard.'

'Hey, come on, I have reason enough to question.' Roy rubbed his arm. 'What would you think if _I _suddenly showed up in drag one day?' Edward couldn't hide the repulsion on his face.

'That would quickly become one of the strangest sights I've ever seen, and I would definitely question your orientation _and_ your sanity.'

'All right, then; answer the question.'

'No.' Edward growled, obviously annoyed at the order.

'No, what? No, you're not bent; or no, you won't tell me?'

_'No, dammit_!' Roy sighed at the refusal. That was his cue to change the topic. Edward needed to cool down.

'How did they force you into this, anyway?'

'Death threats.' Ed muttered. 'I figured I'd better comply. Riza's too good a marksman for me to have successfully escaped.' He sighed heavily, realizing he was going to be stuck with this wanker for the next three hours. And if that was so, fighting would help nothing. 'They'll pay for this eventually.' There was a threatening promise in his tone and briefly, Roy wondered what kind of revenge the boy was contemplating. 'I suppose it was worth it, though.'

'…how so?' Ed pointed to the two girls dancing a ways off.

'They got to be together for a while.' Roy watched them laughing gaily and dancing together. 'Winry's in love,' Edward claimed. The dark-haired boy scrutinized his sister's expression and realized he was just as infatuated as Edward's friend. He looked over at the boy curiously. Had he known about the attraction between the two beforehand? Edward seemed to understand the expression on his face. 'They were making all sorts of faces at each other as they forced me into this shite.' He gestured to the outfit. 'I was the victim, but almost felt like an intruder.' The looks had obviously been too personal and intimate for his taste.

They sat there in silence for a while before Edward felt the need to ask:

'What? No comment?'

'Hm?' Roy turned to face him. 'On you, or the girls?'

'The girls, you prick' came Edward's exasperated reply. 'Doesn't it bother you that your sister might be shacked up with another girl?'

'Not really. I like girls, too, remember? I can see why she might find them attractive. Besides,' he continued. 'It's hardly fair for me to admonish her for being attracted to the same sex—especially when I have my own homosexual tendencies.' Edward studied Roy's open expression. He couldn't be serious. Roy was anything but a fag.

'Liar.' Edward sat back, relaxing into the couch, his arms crossed behind his head. 'You're a womaniser, through and through.' He closed his eyes, suddenly feeling the excursions of the day catch up with him. 'Can't pull the wool over these eyes.' Roy watched the couples dancing, growing a bit anxious as Edward relaxed beside him. He'd been telling the truth, and Edward was the one male he had ever felt such a desire for. What would Edward think if he knew that?

He turned to find Edward watching him, his expression unreadable. Roy met his gaze and a spark of desire passed between them. When neither looked away, it became hot and demanding, urging them closer together. Roy's eyes dropped to Edward's lips and he was overcome by the need to taste them—to explore the cavern beyond. He felt something jerk below his stomach and cursed himself. He was _not _getting a hard-on for his friend. He had better control than this. They were fairly secluded on the couch, with few people around them, but Roy did not want to pounce on the boy here. Edward mercifully closed his eyes, and the moment released them both. Roy struggled to regain his composure.

'Do you approve?' He managed.

'Of you, or the girls?' Ed's eyes were bright with humour. Roy punched him in the arm. _Touché._

'The girls, you idiot.' He smiled at the familiarity of their exchange. He was used to this teasing. Edward surprised him then by falling silent. His eyes stared past Roy to Winry, a mixture of pain and sadness on his face. Roy felt a sudden longing to comfort his friend and banish all the pain he still carried from the night he lost his limbs and family.

'I'm not the only one the fire hurt.' Edward spoke softly. 'Winry lost a best friend—a brother—as well as the surrogate parents who helped her grandmother care for her when her own died.' He shook his head. 'I haven't seen her this happy in a long time. If Riza can help her, I have no qualms over them sharing a bed.' Roy stared at him. 'What?'

'That's very nice of you.' He smirked, his dark orbs teasing. Edward rolled his eyes.

'That's because I _am_ nice, Mustang—just not to you.'

'Why do I get the not-so-special treatment?'

'Because you bait me on purpose. Don't expect _me_ to be kind if _you_ insist on being a bastard.' Edward was very tempted to stick out tongue at the other boy.

'I'd stop if you didn't react so desirably.' The last word held a trace of lingering passion and Edward felt his face heat up. He decided it was time to change the topic of the conversation.

'So, how did you get roped into this?' Roy looked at him questioningly. 'A bloke like you should have found a date easily.'

'"A bloke like me?"' He repeated, his tone begging for clarification. Ed shrugged.

'You're a great catch, no denying that. And you treat girls with respect—at least initially. You must have been asked by someone.'

'I was. But I turned down all comers. Riza insisted on setting me up with one of her friends.' Edward laughed.

'Some luck. She cancels, and you get stuck with me.' His eyes sparkled. 'I'm no expert, but I'd say someone has it in for you.' Roy very much doubted it. Edward was sitting next to him, not arguing, giving Roy a chance to admire his tempting figure. Little more could make this night much better—aside from sex, of course, Edward willing. He heard the announcement that the next dance was a slow three-step and stood in front of his date.

'I do believe it is customary for a beautiful princess to honour her prince with a dance.' Ed's eyes widened. 'I have not yet been given that honour.' Roy extended his hand to the boy. 'If I may, Princess?'

_'Dance_, Mustang?' Edward hissed. 'You must be joking! We're both men, in case you've forgotten.'

'You and I know it, but everyone else thinks you're my date. I'd be an arse indeed if I didn't offer to dance. We wouldn't want to spoil my reputation, would we?' Edward scowled at him, but placed his hand in Roy's

'I am _so _getting you for this, Mustang.' He promised as the raven-haired boy pulled him to his feet.

'I'm counting on it.' Roy's gaze was too intimate, and Edward was forced to look away as the boy's hand found its way to his waist, a firm anchor holding him close. Edward knew Roy was only flirting because he looked like a girl, and not because he was actually attracted to him. That truth hurt, but Ed pushed it aside and concentrated as Roy began to move them in small circles across the floor. His own feelings would have to remain a secret. He could hardly ask Roy to accept his broken body. Besides, Roy pursued women. Any relationship between them would end quickly in tears and a broken heart—on Edward's part, at least. Turning his attention back to the dance, he began to count their steps, trying to remember what he had learned in the lessons.

'You don't seem to be very good at this, Princess.' Roy commented.

'Well, what do you expect? _I'm_ used to leading.' That wasn't true; he'd always played the girl during the lessons Brun's had forced on its students, but he'd be damned if he was going to admit he was naturally impaired. 'Besides, I'm wearing heels. Do you know how uncomfortable these things are?'

'You've trod on my foot enough for me to know that discomfort, Princess.'

'Stop calling me that.' Edward snapped at him. 'I'm no gormless bint for you to woo.'

'Well, I can hardly use your real name tonight, can I? Appearances. Arguing will not help. Relax, and let me lead. I am not so impaired.' Roy's hand tightened on Ed's waist. 'Trust me.' Edward tried to relax his muscles and turn himself over to Roy, but his subconscious refused to let him. He knew if he gave in, the dark-haired boy will have caught him and he would never recover his independence.

'Bugger.' Instinct and reason clashed as Roy pulled him closer. Their bodies touched and Edward stifled a moan that threatened to make his desire known. Roy had sensed his struggle and was bent on persuading the boy to forget his reasons for resisting. If he could accomplish this by seducing him, that was even better.

_'Feel_ the rhythm.' Roy breathed into Edward's ear, feeling the boy shiver in his arms. 'Don't count, Princess. Just move with me.' Little by little, the boy's body relaxed against him and Roy smiled. 'That's it, Edward.' The sound of his name spoken from those lips caressed something deep inside him—something no person was meant to touch. In that moment, Edward knew he was already lost and had been from the beginning. The boy had denied it for years, tried to tell himself his classmate meant nothing to him, tried to convince himself his need for the bastard's touch was merely due to the lack of another who would ignite the sparks of lust within him. But now, if only for this moment, Roy was offering him what he truly desired and Edward could no longer fight his instinct to move closer.

Roy felt Edward lean into him and could not keep a sigh of contentment from escaping his lips. A sense of completion began to fill him. In this moment, he was Edward's, and Ed was his. That was their purpose, he felt—the design in their being. To be close like this, their senses heightened as they moved gracefully across the floor—and they _did_ move gracefully. Despite the boots and Edward's initial hesitation to let Roy lead, they danced well together—almost instinctively, as if each knew the moves of the other before he executed them. Twirling across the floor, keeping time with their triple steps, Roy felt more right than he had in a long time. He smiled down at the boy in his arms, bringing a slight smile to the other's face.

Soon enough, the dance was over. Edward stepped back as if their closeness was a mere necessity and he did not actually enjoy the intimacy, though in reality it was to reclaim some faint sense of normality and to calm his nerves. Roy bent in a deep bow and smiled charmingly.

'My thanks, Princess.' Edward, too flustered to react to his nickname, merely stood there, watching as Roy took his hand and led him back to the couch they had been occupying before their dance. They conversed lightly for a time about school, Ed's latest theory, and their hopes of a successful relationship between the two girls, and Edward took the time he was given as a blessing and allowed himself to admire the picture Roy made.

Their costumes had obviously been coordinated—probably by Riza—and Roy wore the same scarlet hue and startling black as Edward. The other boy's black trousers were tight, giving Ed a very nice shot of the senior's arse when he stood while his shirt, in contrast, was very loose, pulled tight only at the cuffs. It was decorated with red sequins at the neck and was long-sleeved, made of delicately-woven silk. Roy wore it very well, Edward realised, and suddenly all he wanted to do was touch the strong, muscled torso hidden behind the smooth fabric. He would climb onto Roy's lap, wrap his arms around the boy's neck to undo the single button at the back of his neck, and pull the shimmering material down, off Roy's shoulders, then bend his head to taste that spicy, musky skin while Roy tipped his head back in pleasure, the small sound he let loose muffled by Edward's lips on his as they tasted each other, losing themselves in the other's embrace.

Edward snapped out of it, realising that Roy was looking at him expectantly, as if he'd just asked a question. Seeing the confusion in his eyes, the Flame Alchemist took pity on him and repeated his question.

'Seeing as you are not a girl who enjoys dancing, would you mind if I asked that young woman to dance?' Roy gestured vaguely toward a group of girls at the edge of the crowd who had taken their masks off already and were shooting furtive glances in their direction—mostly at Roy. Edward found he did mind—far too much, but kept that to himself as he shook his head.

'Go ahead; blind them with your princely smile and false promises. I'm sure there's no reason you shouldn't get at least a one-time shag out of tonight, and they certainly seem willing, do they not?' Edward stood and uncharacteristically smoothed down the skirt of his dress. 'I was thinking of acquainting myself with the refreshment table, anyway.' Edward began to walk off. 'I'll meet you back here later.' He called over the cacophony, not seeing Roy's hurt, confused expression. Edward reached the table and found he had lost his appetite. He did not want Roy dancing with some girl. He knew the bastard had done much worse it the past, but at least he hadn't been forced to witness it. Now, he felt ridiculously as if he were being cheated on, though he knew the feeling was only an illusion provided by his subconscious. It did _not_ matter to him whom Roy decided to spend his time with, but why did the bloody wanker have to look so good doing it? Sighing and mentally berating himself for liking the picture Roy made as he danced wearing that scarlet Latin dress shirt and tight, dark trousers far more than he should, he picked up the metal ladle and poured some punch into a clear, plastic disposable cup. He drank it down quickly, realizing suddenly that he was rather thirsty and the punch was quite good. He poured himself another and had finished half of it before he heard a voice at his side.

'Would you care to dance?' No, he did not. But girls generally did not turn down offers to dance. Against his will, he nodded, not trusting his falsetto. If a person was sharp enough, he would be able to tell the difference and Ed knew nothing about the boy who stood before him except that he was a senior student at Brun's Academy—as indicated by Roman numeral four pinned to his lapel. The red-haired, unmasked boy held out his hand and Edward took it, allowing himself to be led onto the dance floor. It was another slow song and Edward was beginning to rethink his agreement. They danced, a notable space between them, accompanied by an awkward silence. Edward had begun to think the redhead was shy and not experienced in dealing with women when he spoke.

'So you're Roy's new bitch, are you?' His voice was crude and unkind. Edward did not reply, not wanting to give himself away. The older boy's hand made its way to his arse, pulling the boy closer. Edward tensed, but still did not speak. "That bastard took my girl from me a while back, and I intend to repay him. You being so sexy is just a bonus." His hand roamed Ed's behind and it was all the boy could do to keep himself from taking a swing at him. He did not want another man groping him. If his partner pulled them any closer, he would certainly feel the padding inside the bra and realize he was not a woman. Ed felt the beginnings of anxiety. A discovery would be very bad. He prayed silently for the end of the song to come quickly. His partner continued to feel him up as they danced, leaving Edward with no question of his intentions. The man was going to fuck him, thinking he was Roy's girl. Edward hated revenge. It generally resulted in harm to innocents. Roy. Where was the bugger, anyway? It was his fault Edward was being forced to endure sexual harassment.

They suddenly stopped and Edward tried to pull away, but the older boy held him fast. Edward looked past him to see Roy standing behind his partner, his hand gripping the pervert's shoulder tightly.

'Sorry, Mr Grahm, but I don't allow people to harass my dates.' His voice was firm and held the hint of a threat. 'If you would remove your hands now.' Martin Grahm did not move. Roy's eyes hardened. Edward briefly noted the presence of the girl his date had been dancing with. She stood behind Roy, observing the interaction, intrigued.

'I'm only taking my dues, Mustang. This bitch will replace the one you stole. Besides, she wants to go with me, don't you, Babe?' He moved to touch Ed's privates and the boy decided to act before the bastard discovered something. Ed gripped his partner's arm with his automail, letting him feel the strength of his false arm.

'I'm afraid I don't.' The girl's voice was high and thin, bordering on dangerous. Martin saw the threat in her eyes and backed off. He couldn't handle an attack from both sides.

'Tsk.' He would have to extract his revenge another way, he decided, walking away. Edward accepted Roy's hand and allowed the teen pull him close.

'Thanks. Though, if you weren't such a flirt, this never would have happened.' He muttered in Roy's ear. The taller boy ignored that last comment.

'No problem. I had a feeling if I didn't intervene, you'd punch him.'

'You thought right.'

'It was a mistake to leave you alone.' Edward felt warmth spreading in his body that had everything to do with the idea of being alone with Roy. He stopped to think, confused at such a misplaced thought. The warmth became a dull buzz that had no reason being there and Edward suddenly understood. No wonder he was reacting to stupid things.

'Fuck.' He whispered. Roy pulled back.

'What?'

'Someone spiked the goddamn punch.'

* * *

><p>Roy bid his former partner a polite farewell and the two boys returned to the couch. There they resumed conversation. They talked of academics, alchemy, and their country's disagreement with the Ishballan people, both expressing the fear that the conflict would soon become a full-fledged war. Soon enough, it became clear that Edward was very tired, and perhaps slightly more pissed than Roy'd previously thought. How much alcohol was in that punch, anyway? During a moment when the conversation lulled, Edward yawned and spoke quietly:<p>

'You know something? We haven't fought seriously once tonight.' Roy nodded. It was true, and it was a nice change. As much as he enjoyed taunting the youth, he'd longed for a time they could talk peacefully. 'I suppose I owe the girls some thanks for that.' Edward pulled his knees into his chest and rest his head on them, closing his eyes. Roy nudged him in the side and Edward groaned his complaint.

'You can't sleep in the middle of a dance.'

'Watch me.' He buried his face in his knees.

'I would never allow my date to sleep during our night together unless she was quite adamant in her decision.' Edward lifted his head and gave him a look. Roy frowned at him, still refusing. Edward opened his mouth to complain, but Roy held up a hand, sighing. 'Fine; I'll give you five minutes to rest. In the meantime, I'll go get us some food.'

'No punch.' Edward muttered as he made himself comfortable. Roy laughed, and it was—for once—not grim or mocking, but a pleasant sound. Edward found himself envying the girls who heard him laugh like that. The change made him so much more attractive. That thought accompanied him as he slipped into a light doze.

* * *

><p>Roy, true to his word, wasted a good <em>twenty <em>minutes at the refreshment table socialising with his classmates and the girls from St. Helen's, all the while being sure to avoid the punch as Edward had warned. Soon enough, he felt he should return to his date and excused himself from the conversation. He made his way through the dancers to the couch he and Edward had occupied most of the night. The image he was presented once Edward was in sight caused him to pause briefly. The boy had fallen asleep on his back, his dyed curls spilling over the cushions. Not for the first time, Roy struggled to recover from the shock of the boy's beauty. Unfortunately for him, Edward was nothing if not beautiful. His friend's mask had slipped and much of the Edward's face was easily visible. Roy smiled at the hint of product Riza and Winry had used to disguise him. The brown eye shadow was dark enough that it would make Ed's bronze eyes stand out fantastically—when they were open and unmasked, of course.

Roy walked over and sat down on the edge of the cushion, setting their food on a nearby table. With careful fingers, he removed Edward's mask so the boy would be more comfortable, forgetting his reluctance to let his friend sleep through the dance. Edward's face was now uncovered and Roy's eyes were drawn to his lips. Unable and unwilling to restrain himself, the raven-haired boy gently touched Edward's lips with his own.

* * *

><p>Across the room, two blonde girls danced gracefully together, until Winry, distracted, slowed their pace to a halt.<p>

'Look, Senpai*.' She gestured to her left. 'Your brother…' Winry trailed off and both turned their attention to the couple on the couch. They watched as Roy bent and kissed their sleeping friend. 'I thought so.' Winry whispered. Riza nodded in acknowledgement.

'We both saw the signs.'

'We may have to try harder to push them together.' Winry smiled up at her date. 'They're a little slow.' Riza looked down at her and cupped her cheek, bending so she hovered over Winry's lips.

'I think we're up to the task.' She whispered before following her brother's example and meeting Winry's waiting lips with her own.

* * *

><p>Edward did not respond to so light a touch and Roy smiled faintly. His logic told him he needed to cure himself of this intoxication before he was overcome completely, but he disregarded the warning. With great care, he cautiously lifted Edward's head and sat down on the couch, manoeuvring the both of them so Edward was resting in his lap. The boy rolled onto his side, unconsciously seeking to regain the comfort he lost when Roy moved him. Roy froze until Edward had settled, realizing how fragile this moment was. Edward stilled and Roy felt it was safe to remove the boy's tiara, setting it next to the mask on the table near them. This left him free to tangle his hand in his friend's hair. It was very soft, even though it had been dyed. At this thought, Roy found himself missing Edward's golden waves. Not that the boy wasn't lovely like this, but Roy hadn't fallen in love with a Spanish princess.<p>

Roy propped his head up with his elbow, using the armrest to support himself. He weaved his fingers through the dark curls and, studying the youth in his lap, let his mind wander unrestrained. The boy had never before looked as delicate and unguarded as he did in this moment, and Roy felt himself falling in love all over again. He could see the flush of sleep on the boy's cheeks. Edward's lashes—Roy noticed for the first time—were actually rather long and added to his delicate image. Most people couldn't see past the beauty, however, and few realised how much more there was to Edward than his _image._ Someone who judged Edward by his outward manner and appearance would come to the conclusion that the boy was rude, disrespectful, and hot-tempered. Roy could vouch for each of these traits, but there was so much more to be seen beneath the surface. If only one would take the time to look.

Roy had looked. He had looked and he had studied the youth, wondering why on earth he had fallen in love with the boy. But he knew it was Edward's character—that part of the boy that was gentle, loyal and caring. Roy had seen it surface time and again. The boy had impressed him repeatedly in his ability to love and care for others, despite the negative past experiences he'd undergone. Edward's life had been anything but good. His family was deceased and Edward had lost his arm and leg in the fire that destroyed his house. Now, he lived in the dorms with only his room-mate for comfort. He had found friends—if you could call them that—in Roy, Winry, Riza, and Maes, but not one of them—save perhaps Winry—could honestly profess to know him. One thing they all knew, however, was that despite his brash, angry manner, Edward was a better friend than most could hope for.

Edward stirred again, but instead of pulling his hand back, Roy stroked the boy's cheek tenderly to lull him back to sleep. It worked, apparently, as Edward again settled and his breathing slowed. Roy rest his hand on Edward's shoulder, tilted his head back onto the couch and felt himself drifting off as well. The music's beat was low and rhythmic, the bass like a gentle lullaby, and Roy closed his eyes and allowed the music carry him off to sleep.

* * *

><p>'Hey, girls!' Maes greeted, pulling his date—Glacier, a girl from St. Helen's—over to Winry and Riza. 'Who's Roy's date?' He jerked his thumb in the direction of the two sleeping on the couch. Winry and Riza looked at each other. Winry shrugged.<p>

'Ed.'

'Edward?' Maes did a double-take. 'Really?' He surveyed the two on the couch again. Edward's head rest in Roy's lap and the raven-haired boy's hand rest comfortably on Edward's shoulder. Both slept peacefully, despite the volume of the music. Today's classes had been hard on them all. Maes pulled out a chair for Glacier to sit in. 'Well...' His eyes twinkled. 'It's about time, isn't it?' He sank down into a chair beside Glacier. 'Oh, sorry—introductions. Winry and Riza—Glacier. Glacier—Winry and Riza.' The girls shook hands companionably and smiled at each other. With introductions out of the way, Maes turned back to the boys on the couch. 'Odd, that. Did Edward not object?'

'Oh, he did, but Riza persuaded him into the dress.' Winry chuckled.

'I see...' He looked up at Riza, entirely too familiar with her methods of persuasion. She merely smiled. 'I think you'll have to tell me the story behind all this.'

'What's to tell? They're in love, and they're dragging their arses. With luck, one will tell the other within the next week—thanks to us.' Maes shook his head at Riza's words.

'Don't congratulate yourselves just yet. They're both damn thick.' He looked over at the sleeping pair before glancing down at his watch to check the time, frowning as he read the glowing numbers. 'They need to wake up soon, though. The dance is nearly over.' Winry snorted.

'Good luck. If Edward were to wake up now he would scream 'rape!' or some other nonsense. You know how he is; he'll cause a scene.'

'Don't tell me Roy arranged him like that…' Riza nodded.

'He kissed him, too.'

'He kissed–…that idiot…' Maes sighed in exasperation. 'They've loved each other for so long. It would be nice for them to finally realize their feelings are mutual. Sleeping like that—it just shows how comfortable they are with each other. And yet they can't understand _why_…' Shaking his head, Maes stood to wake Roy.

* * *

><p>A slight shaking woke him from his doze. Roy looked up to see Maes standing at his shoulder.<p>

'Have a nice nap?' Maes' voice was loud in his ear. Roy put his finger to his lips and looked down at Edward. The boy slept still. Carefully, Roy lifted the boy's head and moved him just enough that he could stand. Maes raised an eyebrow questioningly. Roy ignored him and bent down to shake Edward into consciousness.

'Mustang? Ugh. Let me sleep, you prick. Five more minutes.'

'Edward, you've been asleep for over…' Roy glanced at his watch. '…forty-five minutes. We've only a half hour left of the dance.' _Good God, did we really sleep that long?_ Roy thought. So much for enjoying himself.

'We're still at the dance?' Edward sat up slowly. He saw Maes standing behind Roy. 'Oh, hell.' Now word was bound to get out. Edward stood and picked up his mask and tiara from the table beside the couch. How had they gotten there? He couldn't remember taking them off.

'Edward?' Maes' eyebrows disappeared into his hair in a gesture of faux surprise.

'Yeah. And don't you tell anyone about this.' Edward slipped on his mask. 'It's all Riza's fault anyway. Go blame her…and Winry.' He added as an afterthought. Maes leaned closer to Roy to whisper into his friend's ear while Edward tried to fix his hair and the accessories the two girls had forced on him earlier that night. He'd never hear the end of it if he lost a piece.

'Finally got what you wanted, eh? Lucky bastard. Have you had him yet?'

'No, you idiot.' A light blush crept up Roy's cheeks, knowing full well Maes' meaning, although he tried to hide his embarrassment as he pushed his friend brusquely aside. He offered his hand to Edward. Edward stared at it. 'Come on.' Roy urged in exasperation. The boy took it grudgingly and Roy pulled him onto the dance floor. They stood at the edge of the mass of people. Roy's expression was serious and hard. Maes' comment had hit the nail on the head. Roy hadn't truly realized until tonight just how deeply he was buried in his affections for Edward. And, as glad as he was to be able to love the boy who had accompanied him that evening, the realisation was really rather unsettling.

'Oi, Sparky, if you wear that face the women will start running.' Roy started when Edward spoke. He looked down and his expression softened.

'True. Besides, we're supposed to be enjoying ourselves, aren't we?' Roy smirked at him. 'It's almost time.' Edward was overwhelmed by a sudden sense of foreboding. What was the bastard planning? The music suddenly cut off and the DJ picked up the microphone.

'All right, boys 'n girls! It's that time of night! May we please have all couples interested in competing in the dance contest make their way to the centre of the dance floor?' Roy smiled down at Edward and began pulling him toward the crowd of people. Edward found himself suddenly stuttering his objection.

'Wh—what—the _h__ell_, Mustang?' He managed eventually. Roy merely smiled and did not comment. Edward protested. 'Mustang, I _can't_ dance.'

'You danced perfectly well earlier.'

'Th—that was–'

'Just do it again. You'll have the same partner.'

'Bu—but–' His brows contorted in anger at the sight of Roy's smug expression. His mind told him to protest more against this, but his reason was still impaired by the haze of alcohol in his system, little as it was. He would be glad when it was gone. He knew how much his brain was disregarding his inhibitions while under the influence and, while he was still wary of doing anything that might hint at his affection, his mind, his body, his heart—all of him—wanted nothing more than to be held in Roy's arms again as they twirled across the dance floor. When pitted against that kind of consensus, his Ego was entirely disregarded. He glared for a moment half-heartedly, then sighed. 'Eh–' He grunted, unfeelingly. 'Damn you.'

'Oh, I'm sure there's a place reserved for me in Hell already.' Roy moved them into position.

'Tonight our contestants will dance the Tango!' Edward was immediately grateful. The Tango was the one dance he had actually practised. Not that he planned to let Roy know. During this dance, the instructors' motions had intrigued him—movements so quick and intense, but with a fluid grace Edward had tried desperately to replicate. The boy smiled slightly. If Roy knew his steps, they may actually have a chance at winning. Not that he actually cared…

The crowd fell silent as every soul in the auditorium awaited the start of the dance. Edward shivered in poorly-suppressed apprehension. He knew what to expect now—dancing with Roy, but the look in Mustang's eyes gave him reason to suspect that this time would be different. He knew there was some truth to that. In some detached way, he knew his feelings for Roy would be plain to all during this dance, including the man himself, and there was nothing he could do about it. The problem was, Edward wasn't ready to tell the world—or Roy. The dark-haired teen wrapped his arm around the boy's back and Edward's thought process was abruptly curbed at the sensation—the heat he felt through the thin material of his dress. The dance was beginning.

The music began at a moderate pace. The two boys stood close to each other, their bodies not quite touching as Roy began to move them across the floor in a comfortable eight-step walk. Gradually, the tempo of the Latin music increased. Roy pulled him closer and quickened his movements, slipping his leg between Edward's as they danced. Edward's temperature rose a few degrees, feeling the beginnings of a hot pool of desire curling in his groin, and he moved closer to Roy, enjoying the feel of the other boy's body against his. As they continued to move to the ever-increasing beat, the movements of their dance became quick, intense and suggestive, and, much to his surprise, Edward felt no discomfort or embarrassment rubbing his body against Roy so sensually. He knew he should, but the buzz from the punch and the swift intoxication of lust had burned away the last of his mind's inhibitions. Right now, there was no where else he wanted to be but in Roy's arms, and he had no intention of leaving now that he was here.

Edward smiled and it reached his eyes—no, it filled them. It was, for once, not tinted with any spite nor did it resemble a grimace or smirk. Edward was honestly enjoying himself. He had longed to feel the heat of their bodies moving together. And, though he'd had in mind a different sort of dance, this one made him happy enough. He felt his cheeks flushing beneath his mask in reaction to the warmth of the other boy's body and was glad Roy could not see his face.

Roy, too, was having problems controlling his body's reactions to their dance. And a certain part of him was enjoying their dance a little too much. Each time Ed's hips moved against him, startlingly close in a quick, short grind, he fought not to pull the boy closer and arouse more of that hot, delicious friction. Edward's dress—designed for the dance, it seemed—whirled around him as he moved, creating an illusion of mastery, grace, and power Roy had not thought Edward to possess. And he was completely captured by the image. He found himself drawn to the intensity of Ed's dance as he himself countered the boy's actions with his own body.

The two moved together almost effortlessly—with that same surety with which they had danced the three-step. Their movements bled seamlessly—shamelessly—into each other's, and Roy was struck by how natural the dance felt, as if they'd done this before, each step exactly as it should be and each warm breath he felt against his neck as Edward tried to breathe despite the exertion was collected inside him, each hot wind captured to join the other small vestiges of heat as he inwardly stroked them, allowing them to become something more demanding. As much as he lusted after Edward, he also knew he cared deeply for the younger boy—that his unsettling lust was accompanied by a softer emotion—one stronger than he'd felt before. He had not realized, however, that he had fallen so completely for his friend. It was a new feeling for him—to be so consumed by one person. He had never allowed himself the pleasure before, and somehow Edward had sneaked past his securities, touched some deep, dark, corner of Roy's heart, and taken up a portion of it for his own. And Edward—the culprit himself—seemed unaware he had done so.

As a general rule, Roy never gave himself up to anyone. He would date girls, take them to bed with him—perhaps he'd even cared for a few of them, but he had never felt so fulfilled—in every aspect—as he did just by being with Ed.

And he _liked_ it. He was _happy_ to be consumed by the golden-haired teenager. Edward's hips ground against Roy's groin again—_just like that_—and his thoughts immediately fell away, allowing his body's natural responses to take full control.

Edward panted slightly as Mustang's grip on his waist tightened. As is was, the aura of bright, heavy, _passion_ the two of them had created was quickly consuming them both and Edward felt the weight of it pressing down on him. His pants re-defined the word _restrictive._ Roy's hands no longer felt hot through the material, they _burned, _and sparks of heat licked his skin wherever Roy touched him. Edward tried to hold back a shudder of pleasure. _God,_ that felt _good_. The elder boy moved them into position for a dip and Ed wrapped his leg around Roy's, causing a lance of heat to carve through both of them, rushing to the point of contact as the cradle of their hips met—again. Both closed their eyes in pleasure as they executed the move perfectly before straightening and allowing themselves a short gasp of a reprieve before they continued to move against each other as sensually as they could.

The hand at his waist urged Ed even closer, as if all the boy wanted was to force their bodies so close that neither could tell where one of them ended and the other began, and Edward found he was more than happy to oblige. A low growl escaped Roy's lips in the form of Edward's name and the teen let his own hands wander Roy's chest in the hope of eliciting more rough, uncontrolled sounds from the older boy's throat. He should have felt embarrassed at being so open about his feelings, but the alcohol was still working on him. He turned his back to Roy as they walked an eight-count and Roy dipped him a second time, though with less body contact. Edward's head spun and his body seemed weightless as Roy led him through the steps. Both knew the dance was ending and Roy tried to pull himself back—to exercise _some _restraint over his want, but his subconscious refused to be controlled. He pulled Edward close as his lower body responded to the boy's motions.

Unlike the movements of those around them, which—though accurate—had a slight air of study about them, the boys' movements were fluid, intense, and existed solely for this moment. Those watching could not help but be caught up in the aura of passion the two created. The boys' dance was unique—fuelled by their suppressed desires. Even the best dancers in the world would not have been able to replicate the emotion their dance exhumed because theirs was _real_. Their eyes met and Edward felt the pull of those dark orbs, nearly certain his own had bronzed in a desire he could not help but return.

The onlookers waited with baited breath as the beautiful, intense dance began to draw to a close. They had been enveloped by the passion of the two boys and now all expected some sort of display of affection to conclude the it. The couple danced closely, their bodies in constant contact, their lips a few inches from each other's, and the crowd bean to whisper of a kiss. They watched as the Spanish girl spun away from the dark-haired boy. He pulled her in close to him and they posed together as the last note died off.

Roy and Edward panted heavily. Their faces were scant few inches from each other's, and Roy wanted so badly to kiss his princess' beautiful lips. Unknowingly, he bent his head toward Ed's mouth. Edward's breathing hitched as he realized Roy meant to kiss him. A misplaced smattering of applause broke out and the boys realized the moment which had felt so intensely private to the both of them had just been witnessed by the entire room. Roy mastered his desire and backed away, leaving Edward momentarily bereft. A groan rose up from the expectant crowd. Edward closed his eyes in disbelief and swallowed tightly, trying to quell his want as reality rushed back in. He was Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, _friend_ to Roy Mustang, and that would never change. Roy, having recovered himself, took Edward's hand and pulled them both into a low bow. The volume of the applause increased.

'I think we have our winners!' The voice of the DJ echoed through the hall. Someone shoved a bouquet of flowers into Edward's awkward hands and they were suddenly surrounded by an awed crowd. He shuffled the blossoms to rest on his left shoulder so he could take hold of the arm Roy was offering him. He sure as hell didn't want to be man-handled again by some stranger. Roy looked down at him in slight surprise at the contact, but Edward would not meet his eyes, his cheeks tinted pink in embarrassment. The crowd showered them with congratulations and invitations to dance. Both refused them all and were glad when the crowd parted to allow the two dance teachers to descend onto the floor.

'That was absolutely marvellous!' The thirty-four-year-old male bowed and shook Roy's hand. 'Such strength—such passion!' His partner embraced Edward, trapping the flowers between their chests. Edward was immediately grateful for the blossoms. Without them, the teacher could have easily felt the padding in the bra.

'You were brilliant, love!' The plastic crinkled in relief, mimicking Edward's inward sigh as she let go and backed away.

_'Absolutely_ marvellous!'

_'_I'd forgotten how powerful that dance can be when both partners give it their all_.'_ The woman smiled brightly at Edward, the barest hint of a knowing smile on her face. He bowed his head in not-quite mock-timidity.

'Sorry.' Roy apologized for him, knowing Edward didn't dare fake his falsetto with these adults. 'I'm afraid she's rather shy–'

'Embarrassed, more like.' The man interjected. 'But there is nothing to be embarrassed about, girl.' There was plenty to be embarrassed about, as Edward well knew. If Roy didn't know he was in love with him by now, he would figure it out soon enough. Edward pulled slightly on Roy's arm, signalling that he wanted to get out of there, and Roy thanked the teachers and excused the two of them. The last slow song began and the crowd paired up to enjoy the final minutes of the night.

Edward let go as soon as they were away from the people, and stalked over to the couch, setting the flowers down beside him. Roy noticed the tension in Edward's muscles.

'What's wrong?' He asked.

'…I was complimented on my dancing.'

'Is that particularly bad?'

'Yes—no…I don't know.' Edward groaned in confusion.

'You were beautiful, Princess.' Roy smiled at him warmly.

'Is that a compliment?' Edward looked up at him, an impossible expression on his face, and Roy was seized by a sudden desire to push Edward down and show him _exactly_ what he thought of him at the moment, but he controlled himself.

'It was meant as one.' Roy offered neutrally. Edward sighed and looked down at Roy's response.

'I am never doing this again. Don't let Riza set you up any more.' He frowned. 'I am beginning to feel they did this on purpose.' He murmured the last part softly enough that Roy didn't catch it over the volume of the music.

'What?'

'Nothing important, Mustang.' They sat in a tensed silence as the song ended, each trying to ignore the fact that the one he wanted was sitting right beside him, close enough to touch and caress. The last notes of the night wavered through the air as if they were reluctant to let the music end. Soon enough, however, the chord faded out and the DJ stood to wish them all a good night. The students applauded the performers one last time and the teachers and Student Officers moved in to begin cleaning up the mess. Edward stood, wanting nothing more than to escape. He couldn't handle the turmoil of his emotions—not with the cause sitting beside him.

A hand stopped him from walking away. He looked back to see Roy's fingers curled around his wrist. Reluctantly, he met Roy's eyes, spotting a hint of something dark flit across the other boy's expression. Edward did not dare name it.

'Wait a minute.' Roy stood, quickly recovering his neutral expression. 'You can't go back to the dorms by yourself.' Edward tried to pull his hand from Roy's grasp, but Roy's grip tightened.

'Dammit, Mustang, I'm not a girl! Let me go, bastard!' Roy's fingers loosened slightly and he brushed his thumb gently along the line of Edward's wrist, his expression again dark and slightly suggestive. Edward flushed and yanked his hand away. 'I am leaving.' He announced in an attempt to alleviate some of the awkwardness.

'And I'm walking you back.' Roy refused to relent.

'Mustang…' Edward growled in response as Roy offered him his arm. 'As if I'd trust _you_ again.'

'Don't be ridiculous, Edward. I haven't bitten you yet—not even nibbled.' Edward flushed immediately at the suggestion. Roy was making it sound as though he _wanted_ to get his teeth on Edward, which, of course, Edward dearly wanted him to do—along with his hands and mouth. He hesitated still, thinking again that all of Roy's flirting was on account of his appearance. Roy was out of patience. 'Come on, Edward. You're my date, and I'm walking you 'home'. Dressed like that, you might get attacked again.' Roy gripped Ed's forearm to keep him from escaping. 'Grab your flowers and let's go. They're waiting for us.' He jerked his head in the direction of Maes, Winry, Riza, and the girl from St. Helen's whom Edward was not familiar with. He sighed, deciding to suck it up and let Roy fulfil his moral duty. He took hold of the other boy's forearm and picked the offensive bouquet, grudgingly allowing Roy to escort him to the dorms.

'You are such a bastard.' He muttered as they made their way over to the rest of their party.

'On the contrary, Princess, I _do_ have a father and he is, in fact, married to my mother.' The reply was unexpected, and Edward merely looked at him. Roy held his gaze a time before looking away. 'Besides,' he continued, 'even if that _was_ true, _I'm_ hardly one being difficult, am I?' Edward growled softly in response. He knew he was being an arse, but felt his attitude shouldn't be wholly blamed on him. After all, _he_ was the one who'd been forced to spend the night with the man he liked, but unable to confess his attraction. _He _was the one who'd been put in such a compromising position.

They met the other two couples and began to walk back to the dorms. Once outside, Maes and his date left them to go to St. Helen's, and the two girls walked toward a smaller building that served as the women's dorms, leaving Edward and Roy to enter the men's dorms alone. They walked through the halls, the silence between them full of tension as both tried to ignore the _happy_ sounds coming from inside the apartments. Edward flushed, his imagination getting the better of him, inwardly cursing whomever had believed there was no reason for the walls to be built more than an inch thick.

They stopped at Edward's door, having said naught a word and Ed began to pat himself down, feeling for his key. In a moment, he realized he'd left it in his trousers which, due to the unfortunate circumstances of that night, were in a heap on the floor in the women's dorms. Sighing heavily, he boosted himself onto tiptoe to reach for the spare he and Havoc kept above the door frame. He could literally _feel_ the bastard's smirk before he even turned around to see the familiar, mocking grin spread across the teen's face. Roy opened his mouth to offer some scathing comment about Ed's height.

'Why, Princess—' was all he managed.

Edward's body moved of its own accord and he was surprised when his hand reached out pulled Roy down to his level. Their eyes met at an impasse, Edward's expression momentarily indecisive and Roy's expectantly wary, for a moment before Edward took control of the situation and brushed a light, distracting kiss to the dark-eyed teenager's lips. Roy blinked as the hand behind his head released him immediately. All words escaped him, and he was left feeling entirely too confused to come up with any sort of comeback. What _did_ one say to that, anyway? He stared mutely at the boy with automail, a fiery demeanour and beautiful, enchanting eyes. Edward smirked past the blush colouring his cheeks, realizing he'd successfully rendered Roy speechless for the first time.

'Your mouth has a habit of insulting me. I didn't want it to spoil a perfectly enjoyable night.' Edward turned back to the door, blushing harder, feeling Roy's eyes on him. He didn't dare turn around for fear of seeing the other boy's expression. Fumbling awkwardly, his hands refusing to obey him, he eventually managed to force the key into the lock. 'Goodnight, Roy,' he mumbled, opening the door and slipping inside—a tactical retreat.

Roy stared at the closed door, his mind having difficulty registering the truth of what had just happened. Edward had _kissed_ him. Roy brought a hand to his lips thoughtfully. Edward had not just kissed him, but kissed him _willingly_. Perhaps the young alchemist was not so adverse to...

Smiling slightly, Roy made his way back down the hall, thinking about how he should view this new development in their relationship.

* * *

><p>Edward listened for the footsteps telling him Roy had left before sagging helplessly against the door, heart pounding, the bouquet clutched tightly to his chest, blushing like the schoolgirl he'd masqueraded as. He couldn't believe his nerve. True, it had been instinct to pull Roy close to him, but he sure as fuck hadn't meant to <em>kiss<em> the smirking bastard. He had no intention, either, of using the other boy's first name so familiarly—it had slipped out on its own. And telling Roy he'd actually enjoyed their 'date' had been the last thing on his mind. Angry with himself, he yanked off the mask.

'Hey,' Edward snapped his head up, still blushing hotly, to see his room-mate, Jean Havoc, sitting at the small table that served as their furniture, reading a book. If anything was to be said of the military, they certainly knew how to conserve funds. 'I didn't know you were a princess, Boss.' He eyed Edward's apparel, highly amused. Edward rolled his eyes at the nickname, feeling the heat in his cheeks fading. Exactly _why_ Havoc called him 'Boss' he had yet to discover. Perhaps it stemmed from some form of respect, as Havoc had no idea how to use alchemy, whereas Edward's abilities extended far beyond theories—stomping all over known facts and laying his own groundwork. Or perhaps Havoc had called all his room-mates 'Boss'. Either way, it had obviously become a habit now, and Edward found himself responding to it as readily as his real name.

'Ha. Ha,' came Edward's dry response. He straightened and walked over to his dresser, tossing the flowers, gloves, and tiara on to of it and pulling his nightclothes out of the drawer. He refused to stay in this costume any longer than he had to, and he was more than ready for his hair to be gold again. It had been very odd to see black in his peripheral vision.

'Who was your prince?' Havoc asked as Ed pulled the dress up over his head.

'No one of consequence.' He eyed Havoc's cigarette and decidedly changed the subject.

'If you smoke, you'll get cancer. And it will make it a hell of a lot more difficult to get a girlfriend, I hope you realize.'

'Frankly, Boss, you've no right to talk about how to get a girlfriend.' Edward froze. Did _Havoc_ know, of all people? 'You've been without one the entire time I've known you. Feel free to give me all the advice you want _after_ you've gone on a few dates.' Edward relaxed a little and finished pulling down his spandex attire, thankful that Havoc was still as thick as usual. He knew whom he would like to date, and it certainly was not a girl.

'Fine, fine. You win. But smoking kills, regardless. You really should quit.' He bent to pull on his pyjama bottoms.

'You say that like it's so easy, but...' Havoc sighed. 'Anyway, I had no idea tonight's dance was a masque. Was it fun at least?'

_If you would call spending an entire night with that tosser__ 'fun'_. Edward didn't answer aloud, but occupied himself with carefully folding his costume so it was ready for him to return to Winry tomorrow. The girls would kill him if he didn't take care of it. Though it was really very unlikely that the material would wrinkle. It shouldn't, in fact, consisting of man-made fabrics. Realizing that, Edward suddenly had no idea why he was being so careful. Frowning at himself in annoyance for the _nth_ time that night, dropped the dress in to a paper bag and made his way to the bathroom to find a basin and a clean flannel. He found a shallow bowl beneath the sink and filled it with water, needing somewhere to dispose of the dye. He would shower in the morning, but he wanted his hair and face back to their natural state _now_.

'Did you have a good time?' Edward jumped at Havoc's question and turned toward the boy sitting on the bed in the other room, forgetting that he hadn't answered his previous one. _A good time, huh...?_ Bowing his head to wet the ends of his hair—which was difficult to do as his hair was curled—he remembered the heat of Roy's hands on him as they danced together, the phantom touch in his hair—soothing and gentle—from his dream earlier that night, and the feel of Roy's lips when Edward had...

Did he have a good time? Edward clapped to create the alchemical charge and the black slid easily out of his hair into the basin to mingle with the colourless water, turning it grey and returning his hair to its natural, golden sheen. He poured the cloudy liquid down the drain and rinsed out the bowl, clapped once more to dry his hair completely, then turned and gave the other boy a rare, true smile.

'Yeah.'

* * *

><p>Walking down to breakfast the next morning, Edward decided early on that whatever deities he'd offended over the years had decided to cash in their revenge. He had just filled his plate with food and sat down to eat when people began to crowd around the table.<p>

'Hey, Ed, you and Roy get on well enough, don't you?' Edward eyed the speaker curiously. 'I mean, you're mates, right?'

'Some people might call it that.' He sipped his orange juice, relishing the burn in his throat. _Though after last night, I don't know exactly how long that relationship will last._

'Well, then. Do you know anything about the girl with him last night?' Too surprised to think before he responded, Edward replied:

'I...suppose so.' With that, Edward Elric made his first mistake of the day. He suddenly found himself cowing under the onslaught of questions. Everyone was clamouring to ask about the 'rare ethnic beauty'.

'Where did he meet her?'

'Does she go to St. Helen's?'

'Could you introduce me?'

'Does she have a twin sister?'

'Is she _really_ Spanish?'

'Did he fuck her yet, or is she still in need of deflowering?' _That_ particular nastiness came from the Martin kid whom Edward—the Spanish Princess _himself_—had danced with last night. It was the bastard who'd harassed him. Fury boiled the blood in his veins; he was far from forgiving the rat.

'Hey, Ed, can you give me her num─' Edward shot angrily to his feet, slapping his steel fist to the aluminium table with a loud metallic _clang._ The curious students quieted immediately, seeing the anger on the blonde teenager's face.

'I have no idea where they met, and I would assume she goes to St. Helen's since that was the only other school there. I have no way of introducing you, and, no, I do not have her number. I do not know if she has any family, and I doubt she was really Spanish, seeing as Spain is quite a ways from here.' Edward took a deep breath and turned to Martin. 'And, you,' He glared at the red-head. 'You nasty little bugger, she is most definitely taken wherever you are concerned. I know you were touching her last night—very inappropriately, I heard.' Some of the other students looked surprised at this news and glared pointedly at the senior boy, daring him to respond. It seemed Martin had nothing to say in his defence, so Edward went on.

'You will never get a date unless you treat a woman with respect.' He glared. 'She knows how to punch, Martin, and you would have found out just how hard she can pull one if Mustang hadn't been there.' Martin was looking very angry, embarrassed and just a little frightened by the look on Edward's face. The other male students were shaking their heads in disappointment, and a few appeared almost as furious as Edward. That kind of moral rule-breaking was a taboo that Brun's students did not stand for. The alchemist was tempted to give him a contemptuous two-fingered salute or shout some similar insult, but he checked himself in time and sat back down, studiously ignoring the senior he'd just reproved. Grateful for the shocked, angry silence, he took the reprieve as it was given and began shovelling food into his mouth.

'Are they in love, do you think?' He nearly choked on his eggs at the comment that came from his right. Eyeing the kid warily, he shrugged.

'Beats the hell out of me. If you will recall, I believe I already stated I wasn't there. You would know better than I.'

'What, couldn't get a date, Ed?' The dark-haired boy sitting across from him chuckled. 'Or did you turn down anyone who asked you? This _is_ a boy's school—mainly. I'm sure there's some poof who thinks you're a looker. Features like yours are really wasted on a bloke, you know.'

'Shut up, Arsehole! I can take you any day,' Edward snarled, hardly refraining from blowing up in the git's face. How dare he insult him! He'd just trounced that kid last week in their martial arts class.

'Are you sure you're a man, Ed? 'Cuz I swear, I thought it was _you_ in that dress hanging on Roy's arm.' Edward froze. _Fuck_. Was he really going to be found out this quickly? The voice was female and very smug. He flushed slightly, replying before he looked at the girl.

'Wh-what are you talking about?' He turned and, upon seeing that his torturer was Winry, narrowed his eyes at her, merely grateful Havoc wasn't there yet. That boy would blurt out the truth readily enough, just to piss him off. As it was, Winry was _really_ pushing his temper.

'Now that I think of it, she _could_ have been a he.' All heads turned toward the small voice of a freshman girl who lingered near the edge of the crowd.

'Rubbish.'

'Bollocks.'

'You _must_ be joking.'

'Roy is so _not_ bent.'

'I can't even _imagine_ that.'

'Exactly. Like that womaniser would _ever_ need to go after another male. He gets plenty in bed,' Edward spoke, forcing a dry laugh. 'He doesn't even need to chase after the bints. They practically throw themselves at his feet.'

'Yeah.' The crowd became alive again with muttered affirmations, most from the young men who had dated girls who were unable stop fawning over the stud. Edward glared at the freshman who had opened her mouth again to say something, hoping to shock her in to silence. She offered him an indifferent shrug and reluctantly closed her mouth. She had realised the truth, Edward knew, and this development upped his ill-mounting count to six—far too high in his opinion.

'Either way, you have right to rejoice, boys.' Winry spoke out again. 'They've fallen for each other pretty damn hard. She won't be up for grabs any time soon, but Roy won't be available, either.' Riza came and sat down next to Winry, and, unable to leave it as Winry had left it, added:

'That ought to curb most of your girls' daydreams.' The teenagers looked happier at this and some started to leave.

'—but that's not certain.' Edward interrupted whatever else Riza had planned to say. 'He's a fickle bastard, after all.'

'Not this time, I think.' Edward whipped his head around to see the freshman he'd just silenced offering him a guilty smile. 'It would be very hard for two indifferent people to put on such a performance as they did last night. Their dance was rich with emotion.'

'That's hardly sufficient proof—' Edward began.

'—then what is?' Winry cut him off. 'The tenderness in his expression as she lay sleeping in his lap? His honest smile? The kiss he gave while she was asleep?' Edward baulked at the news. He'd slept in Mustang's lap? When? He'd slept on the couch, hadn't he? And...had that kiss been real? _Really?_ 'Or perhaps the way she leaned into him as they danced.' Winry continued. 'How she _let_ him hold her, and the fact that she felt comfortable enough to fall asleep with him. Or perhaps you might find proof in the way they danced together—naturally, sensually, and with a desperate passion that results from unrequited love.'

'Unrequited...' Edward shook his head. 'Regardless, Win—'

'And how about the way you two look at each other on a regular basis when you think no one is paying attention?' Edward flinched. How the bloody hell had she caught that? He prayed that no one had actually heard Winry's exact words, and was sure to use the proper pronoun when he spoke.

'Regardless, some things are _not_ what they appear, Winry. _She_ might be stuck on someone else.' Edward replied, his mind still filled with Roy's kiss, which he'd essentially returned later that night. Was she telling the truth? Did Roy really do that? He'd been trying so hard to suppress his own emotions, he'd completely ignored the signs of any reciprocal affection in Mustang's eyes—if they existed. Apparently, his regular looks had been returned, too, without him knowing. When had she figured out whom he liked, anyway? Girls were bloody scary. The questions were all too much and he groaned and smacked his head on the table. He felt the crowd's eyes watching him curiously.

'Damn you, Win.' He muttered, straightening. 'Look, if you really want to know, go ask him yourself—or Maes, even. Girls have a habit of imagining things.' He looked pointedly at Winry and Riza. 'I'm not sure his sister _really_ knows what she's talking about.' That said, he picked up his tray, still laden with uneaten food, and chucked the whole thing into the trash bin on his way out of the canteen. Naturally, the first people he ran into just outside the door were Hughes and Mustang, himself.

'Good morning, Edward.' Maes greeted cheerfully. Edward grunted at him.

'Not hardly.' He jerked his thumb toward the canteen, directing his next comment at Mustang. 'You're wanted in there. Do me a favour and shut them all up, would you? Don't forget to light Winry on fire, too. She's been recruiting.' With that, he brushed past the two seniors, heading for the library stairs. Immersing himself in alchemical theories in order to forget the rest of the world was sounding really good right about now.

'What-?' Roy opened his mouth to ask what the hell Ed was talking about, but was silenced by an irate glare from the blonde, who spun around to face him at the sound.

'Oh. And, as for last night...' Edward turned toward the library again and waved his hand vaguely in the air. 'It was merely Equivalent Exchange, so think nothing of it. It's your own bloody fault for planting one on me while I was sleeping...bastard.' He added the last as an afterthought before escaping up the stairs. Roy glared at Maes, who was smothering a laugh behind his hand.

'Don't look at me; I didn't say anything.' Roy sighed and pushed open the door, wondering what he would find on the other side. Upon entering, he was immediately bombarded by the onslaught of questions.

'Is it true, Roy?'

'Are you officially off the market?'

'If not, can I have her number?'

'You should have seen this coming, idiot.' Roy sighed at Maes' quiet whisper.

'I know, but preparing for future disasters _is_ normally _your_ job. Got a plan for this one?' Maes merely shook his head, his smile still in place. Roy sighed again and, replacing his general-public mask, he answered the questions as honestly as he could without compromising Edward's reputation. When the crowd was satisfied with his answers, he and Maes piled two trays with food and sat down next to Winry and Riza. 'I was told to light you on fire, Winry.' Roy informed her. 'But before I do, I'd like to know if the action itself is warranted. Care to explain why Ed might think so?'

'Ed's an idiot.' Winry shrugged, scooping up a bite of her cereal.

'And so are you, brother.' Riza added. 'For thinking you'd be able to fool us_. _As _if_!'

'Just what are you two on about?' Roy asked, completely ignoring Maes' laughter beside him. The two girls met each others' eyes and gave him an unexpectedly straight answer.

'If you honestly love him,' Winry began.

'—you should pursue him.' Riza finished. Roy looked at them both and took in their earnest expressions, sparing a glance for Maes, whose expression was similar, before directing his thoughtful gaze downward and propping his head up, chin in hand, as he idly studied the almost-reflective surface of the table.

"Really..."

* * *

><p>'Hey, Ed. Did you hear?' One of his classmates hurried up to him. 'Roy confirmed everything. He's really taken, the bugger! Guess he fell a lot harder than he'd planned, eh?' The boy punched him in the shoulder lightly and walked off to his seat. Edward sighed and collapsed into his chair. That bastard really needed to can it. Both of them. Edward looked up as the two girls sat down beside him at their usual table in the science lab. Thoroughly pissed off, he glared and showed them the two-fingered salute.<p>

'Good job, you two. I'm sure these circumstances are following your design to the letter.'

'Our design? What ever do you mean?' Riza smirked, and the expression really brought out the family resemblance between she and her brother. It was normally fairly difficult to see. 'No, if you were following our design, you'd have slept together by now.' Edward immediately coloured. The red stained his cheeks as the blood rushed to his head. He covered his face with his hand.

'Bloody hell, how _do_ girls notice these things?'

'We've been trained since birth, Ed.' Winry grinned. 'Plus, it's in our genetic make-up to be intuitive matchmakers.'

'Intuition, my arse.' Edward grumbled, glaring at her, and deciding on a subtle form of revenge.

'You two hit the sheets last night, didn't you?' Winry flushed and didn't respond. Riza's hand moved to rest on her lover's thigh, the older girl's expression slightly defensive.

'So what if we did?' Edward glanced meaningfully at the blonde mechanic, his expression informing them both that what he wished to say he intended for Winry. At that moment, the teacher walked in and commanded their attention. The three of them fell silent when he began to speak, explaining the lab they would experiment with that day—something regarding the biology of amphibians. He then asked for one student from each group to retrieve their supplies from the front. Riza stood without hesitation and walked toward the large grey tub on the counter, leaving the two alone to talk. Winry regarded him curiously, waiting for him to speak.

'Is she what you want, Win?' Winry opened her mouth to respond, but Edward took her hand in his, silencing her. 'I mean, _really_? Will she...' He struggled for the right way to explain. '...help you?' Winry considered his question seriously for a moment, her expression thoughtful.

'Yes. I think so.' The tender expression on her face was pleasing and convinced Edward that she was telling the truth. She turned that kind smile on him and he knew her well enough to prepare himself for whatever romantic nonsense spewed from her lips. 'We can understand each other's hardship, can't we? The both of us had our hearts stolen by people we never thought we could be with, and then, to our surprise, it turns out we can.'

'Not quite.' Edward contradicted her, heart heavy as he released her hand. He still had no way of knowing Roy's feelings—if the other boy even cared for him at all.

'Well of course not! You're both being ridiculous. You won't get anywhere if you continue to dance around each other like this.' She fixed him with an annoyed expression that clearly stated _exactly_ how idiotic she thought he was being and added as an afterthought: 'No pun intended.'

'Look, it's just...complicated.' He began to explain before Winry defiantly interrupted him.

'No, Ed, it's not. You love him, he loves you. That's as simple as it gets, mate. What else is there to confuse? Are you holding back because you two are both male? Because in all the time you've known him—loved him—he never gave any inclination he might harbour the same feelings for you that you hold for him?' Edward did not respond. That was certainly part of it, but...

'Or is it that you are afraid?' Edward's head jerked up. She'd hit the nail on the head. 'That's it, isn't it? You're afraid of having something, aren't you? Of loving and finding happiness, because you're certain it will all be stolen from you as soon as you surrender yourself to unguarded moments.' Edward sighed. Of course she'd have him all figured out by now. They were family, after all. But, well...if they were going to have a real heart-to-heart discussion, he may as well convey his deepest fear. After all, it was his highest threshold, and not one he thought could be met on his own.

'Yes, all of that. Gods, you're too sharp.' He glared unconvincingly, his eyes giving away his appreciation and Winry smiled, taking his complaint as a compliment. 'But...' She watched as Edward seemed to draw into himself, as if he needed the extra protection of his metal shields before he divulged his greatest secret. 'I'm more afraid that I'll lose myself to him. That I'll be so consumed by him—by this...feeling—by the pure _passion—_that I will cease to exist as I am now. I'm afraid I'll be burned so completely I will wake up a different person—that he'll steal the portion of my essence that should be entirely _mine _alone, whether or not he means to. It's frightening, Winry. And...I'm afraid. Afraid of him, afraid of me, afraid of my feelings—because some part of me _wants_ to be lost to him. Some part of me _wants_ him to capture me completely. And I...I just don't know what to do any longer.' Edward finished weakly, shrugging. 'I'm at a loss.'

'And you think you'll be able to save yourself the trouble—avoid facing what you fear—by restricting yourself to merely wanting? Avoiding the fact that you can actually _have_ what you desire? Is that it?' Winry looked as though she was about to kill him for being so stupid.

'Yes...?' Came his tentative reply. His 'sister' sighed heavily.

'Listen to me, and listen well, Edward. Because, frankly, I'm getting tired of repeating myself, and if I have to do it one more time, I swear I'll coldcock you.'

'Finally.' Riza announced her return. 'I like that idea. Though I'm more partial to a...different method of persuasion.' Edward could see the older girl fingering the pistol she kept concealed at all times beneath her uniform. He offered her a nervous laugh.

'T-thanks, Riza, but no thanks. I'd rather all my limbs and internal organs remain intact. Mustang's, too.' Winry registered his deliberate use of Riza and Roy's family name in attempt to preserve a sense of detachment between himself and the dark-haired teenager, suddenly realising that even _she—_also Mustang's underclassman—used his first name more than Edward, though he and Edward were far closer. Sufficiently exasperated, she opened her mouth again to finish her tirade, only to be cut off by a wave of Ed's hand. 'I get it, Win. Don't waste your breath.' He sighed. 'We'll figure it out on our own, all right? So, just leave it alone.'

'Mr Elric!' The teacher barked. The three of them flinched away from the harsh quality of his voice. 'That frog isn't getting any more dead, so what are you waiting for? Stop slacking and get to work!' They all bowed their heads in a gesture of chastisement and 'got to work', mutilating the dead amphibian in silence until Winry decided to speak.

'Your clothes are in my bag, by the way.'

'Good.' Edward breathed with feeling, recalling the night before when he'd been forced to use the spare above the door. 'My dorm key is in my trouser pocket. I need that.' He pulled a small paper bag out of his backpack and handed it to her. 'I have the costume to return to you, too.' She responded by handing him the bag containing his clothes. Ed rifled through it and pulled his dorm key out of his pocket, slipping it into the slit in the trousers he was currently wearing.

They talked of little else but the assignment until the bell rang, signalling the end of class. They stood and returned the supplies to their proper place as instructed and hefted their bags onto their shoulders, Winry decided to vocalise her final say in the matter—not caring whether or not she had any sort of right to.

'Seriously, though.' Winry began. 'If you honestly love him—'

'—you should pursue him.' Riza finished, repeating their message to Roy that morning. Edward sighed.

'I'll think about it, all right?' And he certainly intended to think about it—long and hard. As it was, he was already determined to visit Roy later. What he still needed to figure out was whether he ought to punch him for spreading rumours throughout the school or persuade him to bed.

* * *

><p>Roy sat on his bed, staring at his costume the night before. He really didn't want to give it back. If all he was left with that night was memories, he wanted some sort of souvenir. The human mind is flawed, and Roy knew that, years form now, he would no longer remember last night. And he hated that. He hated that he would forget their dance. He hated that he would forget Edward's blush when he turned away after kissing him, and the feel of Edward's lips when they met his. The lovely image Edward when he...<p>

A distinct knock brought Roy out of his recollection. Thinking it was merely his room-mate, Hughes, Roy opened the door, a smile on his face and a slight quirk to his lips, only to be met with an unexpected bouquet of flowers. He waited only a moment, confused, before a blond head popped out from behind it.

'Hey.' Came Ed's greeting, playfully saluting him. The boy had decided to just play it cool, apparently. It made sense, he supposed; his behaviour the night before hadn't exactly allowed for any other response.

'Hey,' came Mustang's ever-so-articulate response. Edward snorted. 'What?'

'We still haven't got past monosyllabic greetings, have we?' He arched an eyebrow, asking silently whether or not Roy was going to let him in.

'No,' Roy began to laugh in response, waving him inside the dorm. 'I suppose not.' Edward moved past him into the room.

'What's with the music?' Edward asked as Roy closed the door behind him, noticing the faint Latin strain painting the room with a woman's low, melodic tone.

'I like it,' Roy responded simply. 'It puts me in a good mood, and—' He shrugged, cutting himself off in his uncertainty.

'And?' Edward prompted, seating himself in the nearest chair.

'And I...have discovered how very much I enjoy dancing.' Roy met Ed's eyes, a secret hidden in his words, and Edward was forced to look away, unable to respond to the unreadable expression, bright as it was in its intensity.

'So...' Edward began. 'Where's Hughes?'

'He went to go help Lt. Col. Michaels move some furniture. We're getting a transfer student tomorrow.'

'Well, that's a bit unusual this time of year, isn't it?" Ed couldn't help noticing that Roy was still standing. It made him feel awkward and more than a little unwanted. He really shouldn't be here.

'A little.' Roy agreed easily, letting the conversation drop off into silence. And the silence was awkward to say the least. Edward immediately began to suffer under the weight of it. The air was—to him—charged with all he'd rather not say, and it was very frustrating. He really had no idea what to say to his friend. Sensing Edward's plight, Roy took some kind of pity on him and walked closer, until he stood before the blond-haired teen, his hand outstretched. Edward stared at the offered appendage, confused.

'Come on.' Roy smiled down at him and Edward did not know how to respond.

'What?'

'Dance with me.'

_'What?'_ Edward nearly squealed. '_Again?_ Mustang, what the _fuck_ is wrong with you? I am _not_ a woman! What part of that sentence do you not understand?' Roy reached for Ed's hand which rest on the bed and pulled the boy to his feet.

'I am very much aware of that, Edward.' He wrapped one arm around the boy's waist and pulled him close, forcing their very manly privates together. 'But,' Roy murmured softly. 'I think we communicate better this way.'

'Like _hell_ we do!' Edward explicated, struggling to free himself from Roy's arms, at the same time trying to keep the blush off his face.

'One dance and I'll let you go.' Roy promised. 'Please, Ed.' It was the voice, he decided. Roy's voice saying his name seemed to render all his protests entirely futile. He simply couldn't ignore the pleas when it was _Roy's damned voice_ asking.

'If I must. But make it fast, all right? I feel like an idiot, and I still don't like that you're leading.'

'Well, I _am_ taller; it just makes sense that I would lead. I can't help your stature. And you don't look like an idiot. You're really very attractive.'

'You...' Edward blushed and decided not to address Roy's last comment. 'You'd better not be calling me short, Mustang.'

'Of course not.' Roy let him go and walked over to the stereo to select the song he wanted, returning to stand before Edward, the opening chords floating through the room. Roy bowed gracefully and looked up at Ed, gesturing for him to do the same. Edward made no move to comply. Roy's expression was pinched with something like anxiety. 'Please, Ed. The bow is not a formality, it is your consent.' Edward weighed his chances, deciding that if he really wanted this, he should at least play along. He bent slightly at the waist, his arms fixed firmly to his side and straightened. Roy smiled gratefully. 'Thank you.'

The dark-haired teen proffered his hand to Edward, who took it grudgingly.

'Remember, Ed: I may be leading, but it is your choice whether or not to follow. I have no desire to force you into anything—you will always have your freedom when with me, that I swear.' Roy's eyes were hard, his words so obviously sincere that Edward found himself trying to breathe past the odd emotion swirling in his chest. 'Now,' Roy's eyes lightened. 'Shall we?'

Edward allowed Roy to pull him close and was again lost in the music, the beat, the movements, Roy's damned _nearness_, the blasted heat that arose time and again. They danced, and the world fell away. They danced, and it was just the two of them. _As it bloody well should be_. They danced, and Edward realised what Roy was talking about; words just got in the way between them, but this—an activity neither had believed they enjoyed—this forced them to convey their true emotions. Edward looked into Roy's heated gaze, and consciously gave himself over to Roy's tender keeping.

He didn't even blink when the ebony-haired boy he realised he _loved_ leant closer.

'Do you see?' Roy breathed softly, his voice ghosting over Edward's lips as he drew closer. 'We understand each other quite well now, I believe.'

'If you don't kiss me right now—' The irascible blonde's threat fell away as Roy tightened his grip at Ed's waist before pressing his mouth roughly to his friend's. It was hot, wet, and passionate, like nothing he'd ever felt before. Despite the harshness, Edward thought it was perfect, even as he berated himself for thinking something so damned cheesy. The hands he had so loved on him as they danced slipped under the hem of his trousers and into his pants to grasp his manhood, and Edward was so lost to the wondrous sensations Roy elicited in his body, he didn't notice when Roy pressed him into the bed, determined to have his wicked, wicked way with him. The Spanish music continued in the background, neither boy with a hand free to shut it off.

* * *

><p>'I don't share.' Were the first words out of Edward's mouth when Roy opened his eyes to the most lovely sight he'd seen...ever. His lover's shimmering hair—it's proper colour—spilt over the pillows behind his head and Roy was tempted, as he so often was, to touch it's softness. It looked obscenely dishevelled, as if he'd just spent the night being shagged into exhaustion. Which he had. At that reminder, a certain part of Roy's body literally peaked in interest. 'Are you listening to me, Roy? While I am with you, there will be no shagging on the side, no <em>let's try a threesome<em>.' At the thought of letting another man fuck the gorgeous blonde in his bed, Roy's possessive side reared it's head and roared, demanding he stake his claim...again, and as permanently as possible. But Edward was still talking. So he shut him up in the most satisfying way he knew how.

'I love you.' He covered Ed's lips with his again, not allowing the boy time to register his words.

No. He was _not _sharing his Edward with anyone. And the blonde had no reason to fear Roy's straying. None at all.

Once he had introduced his lover to the idea of a pleasant morning rimming, followed by a slow, deep, love-making, he was pretty sure he'd gotten the message.

They always did manage to communicate better without words.

END

* * *

><p>Footnote:<p>

*I used the word 'Senpai' (JP) because I honestly couldn't think of another way to convey the same level of respect using English. The term refers to someone—especially an upper-classman—whom you deeply respect and/or are awed by. Being that Riza and Roy are—though not twins—in the same grade, specifically the grade above Ed and Winry, both of them _ought_ to use 'Senpai' to refer to the two siblings. The reason Edward doesn't bother is because he's just rude like that. Winry, in contrast, seems to place more value in formality and actual signs of respect.


End file.
